


Unsell the Dreams You Should Be Keeping

by dimplelegacy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hyperventilation, Kissing, M/M, Mourning, pre-kerberos, prompt, talk about marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 07:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13266855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplelegacy/pseuds/dimplelegacy
Summary: Keith says goodbye to Shiro before and after the launch to Kerberos.





	Unsell the Dreams You Should Be Keeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackxpaladins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackxpaladins/gifts).



> Please listen to Luke Sital-Singh's Pure. I listened to that song non-stop while writing this.  
> This small fic is for lovely Ana and the plot was all her idea. Thank you for always being so goddamn encouraging, and happy... Christmas and New Year...? I'm terribly late. I hope you can enjoy even a little bit.
> 
> Come to brainstorm on [Tumblr](http://captain-rinsrins.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ayayrins/), I love it.

 

 

 

 

 

Before Keith goes to visit Shiro in his room, he practises a smile. A sincere, happy smile. Because he's happy, he really is - when he pictures Shiro piloting a ship, one of Garrison's finest, sees him blabber electromagnetic radiation to his crew members, and imagines him up in the space with stars and planets, same stars and planets that he can see from Earth, it makes him happy, because he knows it's Shiro's dream. But at the same time, it means no more tutoring, no more training together, no more free days in the main city. No more hearing Iverson call Shiro's name in the halls in an unnecessarily loud voice, no more Shiro sneaking him snacks after curfew, telling him to relax and not study so much, even though he knows Keith barely studies, he's the opposite of Shiro who sleeps on top of his books. No more any of that and more of all the things that Keith hates.

 

Not having Shiro on his side, or at least close enough to always pull him on his side, is something he hates.

 

But he doesn't need mixed emotions, he needs pure happiness and encouragement that he can present to Shiro and send him on his journey which almost feels like _their_ journey, that's how much they have talked about it. He should be used to the idea already.

 

He gives up, tired of looking his face in the mirror, so he grabs his jacket just in case - this is their last night together so he knows Shiro won't allow them to just stay inside his small room - and steps out.

 

Shiro's room is on the other side of the building so it takes him about five minutes to reach it. During those five minutes, he tries to calm himself and his heart which is beating out of his chest. He feels charged like an electric wire.

 

When he knocks on Shiro's door, the older man almost immediately opens the door, his hair slightly dishevelled like always.

 

His smile is enough of a greeting, enough of everything and Keith swallows the ugly taste of sadness and regret that's already gathering into his mouth. "Hey. What's the plan?" he asks with a neutral voice.

 

"The Plan is- Wait." Shiro disappears behind the door and Keith peeks inside. The floor is full of clothes and science books, waiting to be selected for the big adventure ride. A thought of asking Shiro if Keith could keep something of his, maybe a piece of cloth, passes his mind, but he pushes it away immediately. It feels a touch too intimate. "Where the hell is my jacket?" Shiro mutters and Keith sees him even look under the bed.

 

"A bit messy here," he states the obvious.

 

"What did you expect?" Shiro asks. "You know that I relieve my stress by making my space as unhabitable as possible. Oh, there it is." He faces Keith again, the dark jacket in his hands. "Ready?"

 

"I was waiting for you," Keith says dryly. Shiro steps outside, closing the door behind him and then leads Keith down the dark corridors of the building.

 

When they are outside, the fresh air hits Keith's face and he sighs. Being out of that stuffy room of his lifts his spirits immediately. They walk away from the Garrison building, leave the yard behind and face the desert.

 

”Where are we going?” Keith asks.

 

”Towards the desert adventure,” Shiro says, using a playful tone like he is talking to a kid.

 

”Sounds lovely. Sand and shit everywhere.”

 

”Given that I'm not going to see or feel anything for at least 8 months, except darkness, you should humour me, cadet.”

 

Keith snorts and follows Shiro's steps into the night.

 

The desert is quiet, not even a distinguished animal sound can be heard, and the soft wind is only a distant hum in Keith's ears. They don't travel too far and instead of going towards the endless sea of sand, they go to the west, towards the enormous rocks and caves.

 

Shiro stops before they reach the deeper parts, leading Keith on top of a modest-looking rock, a good place for star-gazing.

 

”Here,” he says, taking a folded blanket from his bag. He spreads it on the surface of the rock and sats down. He pats the place beside him.

 

It seems like a picnic and Keith doesn't know if it's more sweet or ridiculous. But the weather is nice, just the right temperature and he can already see at least five different constellations on the sky, and if the fact that he can spend alone time with Shiro isn't tempting enough then he doesn't know what is. So he sighs and sits beside Shiro, their thighs pressed together.

 

”I saw that look,” Shiro smiles at him, nudging him slightly with his shoulder. ”How many did you find?”

 

Keith knows he means the constellations. ”Five.”

 

”Pretty good. I saw seven.”

 

”No, you didn't, you barely glanced at the sky.”

 

”Wanna bet?” he asks and then he proudly points out all the stars that he recognized, while Keith has to admit his defeat.

 

”Well, you're the future legend, not me.”

 

”That's not true,” Shiro says, his mouth downturned in a serious manner. But he doesn't elaborate.

 

Keith lets his hand wander from the blanket to the coarse sand. He feels it under his fingers, lets it slip from his grasp before grasping it again. All the while he's listening to Shiro, occasionally commenting with a hum. Shiro is telling him about his childhood, a topic he usually avoids. His parents were never really present in his life - mostly he lived with his grandma. But now he's sharing a fond memory of the time when he was seven and catching fireflies in the forest near his grandma's house. He tells Keith that it was the first time he felt like he was close to space, surrounded by darkness except for the glowing, little lights. He caught them then, much like he confesses his wish to catch the stars too.

 

”I've never told about this to anyone,” he says softly, glancing Keith with soft eyes, almost fond.

 

”I'm glad you told me. You seem to be that same kid still. Always the dreamer.” Keith's flicks the sand with his fingers. ”And even better, now those dreams are becoming real. You're going out there.”

 

Shiro's expression turns troubled. ”Keith.”

 

”What?”

 

To Keith's horror, Shiro leans closer to him and Keith feels a cool hand on his cheek. ”You're...”

 

”I'm what?” he asks when Shiro doesn't finish the sentence.

 

_Sad. Devastated._

 

The worry in Shiro's eyes and the sympathetic frown on his forehead don't fade. Keith looks at his hand in the sand, avoiding the unsaid words between them as best as he can. He doesn't avoid Shiro's touch though, lets Shiro's fingers stroke the skin of his cheek, pass the corner of his mouth.

 

It's not a big deal. It can't be.

 

They have only shared few, maybe more than a few, kisses. Nothing more.

 

Keith can't be in love with him yet.

 

”Hey,” Shiro says with a low voice. It's like a faint rustle of sheets in the middle of the night; familiar, safe. ”Look this way, please.”

 

”No,” Keith answers. He doesn't trust himself enough to look at Shiro and still keep a happy face. His cover has been blown.

 

Shiro sighs and presses his face against Keith's neck. Keith tries to not shudder. ”Always so difficult.”

 

”Easy is boring.”

 

”I'm easy.”

 

”That's why it's good that you're leaving,” Keith lies. ”We can avoid me getting bored with you.”

 

”If that's so, why do you look like that?” Shiro asks while he pulls Keith closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

 

”Like what?”

 

”Scared.”

 

His words are more an automatic reaction than a reply, ”I'm not scared.”

 

”Sad.”

 

”What does it matter?” Keith finally faces him, only to fix him with a glare. ”It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that I'm happy for you and there's nothing I want more than you to reach Kerberos, reach your goal.”

 

”You do know I'm going to take you with me next time, right?” Shiro says it like he just offered to give Keith half of his salad.

 

Keith's brain circuits for a few second before he answers. ”Why are you so sure?”

 

”Because I know you. I know you can do anything,” he strokes the apple of Keith's cheek gently before kissing it. Keith's eyes flutter and he turns his head slightly so they can share a proper kiss. Shiro's lips taste like the menthol he uses every day and Keith imagines himself getting used to that taste. He smiles into the kiss.

 

They kiss for a long time, their legs pressing closer and closer together. Keith feels hot like he's sitting on a grass of a rainforest, not in the cool desert.

 

Keith feels Shiro pull away slightly so he leaves a small bite on his lower lip before letting him go. Their hands are intertwined like they belong together. Like they belong here, with each other in the silent night.

 

"I'll be back sooner than you think." When Shiro sees his sour expression he corrects, "Well, not that soon, but I will come back. You just focus on studying and maybe making new friends-"

 

Keith's expression turns even sourer.

 

"If anything, it's me who is going to miss you more. I don't have anything to do there except play poker with Matt and Sam. And we don't even have pocket money."

 

Keith lets himself smile crookedly, feeling even warmer at the fact that Shiro is going to miss him.

 

"But I'll come back. I have to. I've got to marry you and keep you in shape right?"

 

He doesn't seem to realize his words for a couple, slow, agonizing seconds and Keith only keeps staring at him, his eyes so wide that they start to burn. Then Shiro's own snap open and he pulls back. His face is already flushed because of their kisses but as they continue to stare at each other, the red on his cheeks gets more intense until he looks unhealthy.

 

"Fuck," he says like it's coming from the bottom of his heart.

 

"Shiro..." Keith's tone is raspy.

 

"It just came out," Shiro says the words like someone has sped up his voice. "It was meant to be a joke. I'm sorry."

 

"Oh. _Oh."_   Keith swallows loudly and then he chuckles like a nervous 12-year-old. "No, I was just startled. Dammit." He gently pushes Shiro's shoulder and the gesture is actually so sudden that Shiro almost falls down on the sand. Keith grabs his arm firmly to prevent him from messing his clothes. "Warn me next time. You and your jokes are too absurd for me."

 

"Too out there you might say?" Shiro asks, laughing loudly himself. He seems to be recovering from the shock too.

 

"Yes. I hope you find the truth of proper humour on the mission."

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Pilot error._

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The mouth of you," Shiro says with incredibly soft eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Shiro._

 

 

 

 

 

 

The picnic in the desert is one of the memories Keith replays over and over again in his head. Sometimes he finds himself even thinking about the moment when Shiro opened the door for him the first time. And Keith, because he apparently can't take any kindness seriously, not even from Shiro _,_ scoffed at him.

 

It has been two days after the announcement of Shiro and his crew's death. On both nights Keith has woken up sweaty on his bed. He doesn't remember having a nightmare, only his own voice clear in his ears, screaming "come back" before properly waking up. His roommate has become more than fed up with him, he can tell. But he seems to give some mercy to Keith and doesn't mention it to him. After all, Shiro is dead.

 

It's been two days and he can finally visit Shiro's room.

 

He has been there many times but when he opens the door, the scent that hits him is strange. It faintly smells like Shiro but it's also a mix of dust and musty air. Shiro always opened the window at least once a day. Keith supposes the room would have smelled the same either way, after all, Shiro was supposed to be away for months. But the reality is that it will always be like this from now on. And what's even worse is that all his belongings will not be there either. It will be just a normal room, ready for other students or officers.

 

Too soon. It's all too soon.

 

Keith tries to grasp every second but he can't stop the inevitable. No matter what he does, he will always be too late from now on. Something, someone, who kept him in his tracks, is gone.

 

He steps inside. He would like to go through every item, every cloth. But he doesn't know if he can take it. He's not going to cry inside this room or he might never leave.

 

Shiro had a testament ready. He left most of his belongings for his grandma, nothing for his parents. And to Keith...

 

_"I will let Keith have anything he wants."_

 

Keith doesn't know what Shiro thought he would want. Maybe the ridiculous hairpin he mocked every time he saw it in Shiro's hair. Maybe Shiro's jacket. He remembers how cold he felt when that sentence was read to him, only thinking how Shiro must have felt when he wrote it, maybe only distantly thinking the possibility of "what if". He even might have had a smile on his face.

 

No one thinks about dying when they are achieving their dreams.

 

Keith pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. He feels too overwhelmed, too raw to hold in the cry that's trying to make its way out of his throat. His movements are automatic and jerky as he grabs the first few clothes that he sees on Shiro's bed, before opening his wardrobe and snagging a vest into his arms.

 

Does it matter what he takes? It will never bring Shiro back.

 

A small sound from the floor, like an object hitting against it, makes him pause. Something has fallen out of Shiro's vest.

 

Keith kneels down on the floor and inspects the little, glimmering thing on the floor. It's a simple, golden ring, something Shiro could have gotten from his grandma. Or maybe from an ex.

 

The dark sea of sorrow around Keith doesn't even stir from that thought. He only picks the ring up and intends to put it in Shiro's drawer. But as he stands up, a carving inside the ring catches his eye.

 

After a moment he hopes he hadn't noticed it.

 

_S &K_

 

The ring slips from his fingers, much like the sand on the last night he and Shiro spent together. It rolls under Shiro's desk. All strength vanishes from Keith's muscles and the clothes fall down from his arms. He doesn't even realize he's crying until he starts hyperventilating, choking on wet sobs. He collapses on the floor, suddenly feeling like he has aged 80 years and it's happening, he's finally dying.

 

But he doesn't die. He continues breathing, hardly, and the pain stays with him, strangles him, making him beg like he's only a helpless baby. He can't close his eyes, he knows he will see Shiro's blushing face, saying that he will marry Keith, so he keeps staring under Shiro's desk, at the ring. It looks cold and alone, just like he feels.

 

Just like Shiro is, his corpse floating in deep, black space.

 

He lets everything out inside that room. He grabs Shiro's shirt and screams into it, lies on the floor and cries before screaming some more. After that, the pain in his vocal cords only slightly takes his mind off the ache he feels everywhere else.

 

He has felt sadness before but it isn't the same as when his father died. This sadness hurts his whole body like a disease.

 

Time moves differently for people who have lost everything and Keith doesn't know how much of that time passes while he cries. He knows he hasn't lost _everything_ , he can even hear Shiro's voice say it to him, telling him to get up. But a big piece of his life has been pulled out and now he doesn't know how to make all the other small pieces fit.

 

_Get up._

 

”No,” Keith says but his voice doesn't come out.

 

_Get up._

 

His stares at the ring.

 

Slowly, like his limbs have forgotten how to move, he crawls towards the desk and reaches under it until he has the ring in his hand. He pulls his arm out and numbly strokes the ring with the tip of his finger.

 

Instead of thinking about when Shiro bought it, when was Shiro going to propose or what would have even been his answer, only one thing is important to Keith at the moment.

 

Shiro loved him.

 

Keith tried to deny it, even after hearing his testament. He tried to deny his own feelings, to protect himself.

 

The ring that he is holding opened not only one, but many locks inside of him. Few more tears run down his hot cheeks and he can't help but let out a short, miserable laugh.

 

”You loved me,” he whispers. ”And I love you too.”

 

He presses Shiro's shirt close to his chest and squeezes the ring inside his fist, counting down his breaths. He knows that he needs to leave at some point and that point is arriving soon.

 

When he hears Shiro's voice say ” _Get up”_ again, this time he listens to it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That day, even when he is drowning in sorrow, he walks out of the Garrison, Shiro's vest, shirt, pants and ring, _his own ring,_ with him. Shiro was the best pilot in the state, he had planned a future for himself and Keith. He could not have made a pilot error and Keith would taint his memory if he stayed under the watchful eye of the people who made up such a lie.

 

That day is the beginning of everything and he will never wear the ring until, many, many months later, Shiro slides it on his finger himself.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
